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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091465">Bring Your Hunger</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual'>Decepticonsensual</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tiny Important Words [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 03:14:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At the height of the war, Getaway lets Deathsaurus patch him up, as the two play a dangerous game of manipulation and conflicting loyalties with one another - a game Getaway is no longer sure he's winning.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Deathsaurus/Getaway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tiny Important Words [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bring Your Hunger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Canon divergence post-Lost Light #20, with spoilers through that issue.  Warning for descriptions of injuries.</p>
<p>This fic is part of a series of short fics I wrote on Tumblr for prompts taken from this list: https://decepticonsensual.tumblr.com/post/631057835507286016/two-part-drabble-game</p>
<p>The prompt for this story was:  <i>cleaning wounds</i> + “I know it’s late, but I don’t know where else to turn.”</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>I know it’s late, but I don’t know where else to turn.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Getaway knew the line was a good one.  He’d rehearsed it in his head often enough, on the way to this outpost on the very edge of neutral space, skirting the borders of Decepticon territory; and now he delivered it in a husky murmur, with just the right degree of breathiness to it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He watched the corner of Deathsaurus’s mouth curl upwards, and his optics dart up momentarily from the gash on Getaway’s arm that Deathsaurus was cleaning with sure, firm strokes.</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Little Autobot,” Deathsaurus purred, “what </em>have <em>you been doing to yourself?”</em></p>
<p>“<em>They said he didn’t mean it, that it was just a training accident.” Getaway let a bitterness creep into his voice that wasn’t entirely invented.  Atomiser had been a good deal less careful than he could have when it came to administering the knife wound, and the smirking tilt of his optics when Getaway had yelped in pain wouldn’t be forgotten in a hurry.  “Just… seems like these so-called accidents are happening more and more.  And it’s always us MTOs getting hurt.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>It was a tactic chosen after much deliberation within Spec Ops. Deathsaurus was never going to turn Autobot; he was a dyed-in-the-protometal ’Con, and one apparently impervious to bribery.  But just because Deathsaurus was a loyal Decepticon didn’t mean that there weren’t useful ways for Getaway to wriggle under his plating.  Deathsaurus had his levers, like anyone else.  And Getaway had spent months learning exactly where they were.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He let out a soft sigh, leaning the slightest bit closer and allowing his injured arm to relax in Deathsaurus’s grip.  Deathsaurus’s claws closed on a jagged splinter of metal stuck in the edge of the wound, and tugged; Getaway whimpered.  He looked up to find Deathsaurus watching him.  The Decepticon’s double ranks of ruby optics were only inches away, and unreadable in a way that sent a shiver down Getaway’s back strut.</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Why do you stay with them?” Deathsaurus asked, discarding the metal fragment and picking up a welder.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>For months, Getaway had been saying, “They’re my faction, I couldn’t possibly…”  Now, right on schedule, that changed; instead he paused, giving the appearance of wavering.  “Like the Decepticons are any better?” he muttered halfheartedly.</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Perhaps not,” Deathsaurus said.  “But you’d be mine.  I could protect you.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Getaway’s head snapped up.</em>
</p>
<p><em>He stared in very real astonishment at Deathsaurus, who was looking brazenly back at him, as if he hadn’t just offered Getaway… what? The protection of a commanding officer?  Of a friend, when surely everyone knew Decepticons didn’t </em>do <em>friendships?</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Of a lover?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I could protect you.</em>
</p>
<p><em>I </em>want <em>to protect you.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Getaway felt a dangerous flush of warmth go through his frame.  “I… I’ll think about it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Deathsaurus finished the weld and clicked the flame off, then lifted a hand still warm from the welder to cup Getaway’s cheek.  Getaway could feel the points of his talons resting against the delicate metal of his faceplate, without even a hint of pain, as if Deathsaurus was cradling something precious.</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t think too long, little Autobot,” Deathsaurus told him.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course he thought too long.</p>
<p>He has always – as he comes to reckon with it, now, at the end of everything – thought too long, schemed too long, and been left behind.</p>
<p>It feels like it’s taken an epoch to find the War World.  He knows, intellectually, that it’s only been a few weeks since the <em>Lost Light, </em>and the discovery of the empty Cyberutopia, and his last confrontation with Rodimus.  His frame is still an angry mass of scraplet-toothed scars and sloppy patches; one arm is gone, the other a skeletal thing mostly gnawed away.  His legs are scarcely intact enough to carry him this far – and when one of the War World crew pushes him onto his knees before its commander, he goes, landing gracelessly on the floor.</p>
<p>He lifts his face to Deathsaurus’s, and millions of years seem to melt away as he meets that same bold red gaze.  And Getaway says, with more sincerity than he’s ever said anything in his life:</p>
<p>“I know it’s late, but I don’t know where else to turn.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>"Day by day oh lord three things I pray<br/>That I might understand as best I can<br/>How bold I was, could be - will be - still am, by god still am</p>
<p>Fret not dear heart, let not them hear<br/>The mutterings of all your fears, the fluttering of all your wings<br/>Welcome to the storm, I am thunder<br/>Welcome to my table, bring your hunger"</p>
<p>- The Amazing Devil, "The Horror and the Wild"</p></blockquote></div></div>
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